"All right. Maybe not technically." He looked around the room resentfully. "Using your apartment for—"
"Frank! When I have guests, do they hesitate because my apartment is nicer than—?"
She knew she'd hurt him even before his head came around and his eyes narrowed. "So that's what it really is to you!"
She'd said the wrong thing, but even as she sprang up from the bed she felt that it made no difference because he would have found something else. "I didn't mean it that way. You know I didn't."
She ran to him and laid her hands on his chest; his eyes traveled down her naked body and his mind struggled. His expression said it was a little unfair of her to come so close and stand that way, nude and beautiful and eager, in front of him, especially when he had a point to make.
"I'm a pauper trying to keep up with the rich."
She knew how to break his mood now. She smiled and pressed against him lightly and said, "Uh-huh, but what a pauper. And darling, money wouldn't change that part of it a bit."
He drew her to him violently. The impact of their bodies hurt her ribs but she gloried in the pain. She let her knees weaken and sank to the thickly carpeted floor, bringing him down with her.
She knew Frank's outburst was over—at least for that day.
Later, on the bed, he opened his eyes sleepily. "What time is it?"